Roxy and Eggsy: The Holiday Collection
by HopefulPlace
Summary: Short Reggsy holiday stories to tide me over until 2017. Apologies in advance for mushiness, cliches, and/or bad editing.
1. Mistletoe and Tinsel

"Rox! Rox! Come 'ere!"

Roxy let out a sigh, dropping the tinsel that she had been struggling to untangle for the past half hour. Stepping over the mass of ornaments and boxes strewn on the floor, she made her way into the bedroom. "Eggsy, what is-" she stopped in her tracks once she realized what he had done.

He was grinning like a damn fool, hands tucked in his pockets, his cap propped on his head so that a tuft of golden-brown hair was still visible. And he had decorated the entire room with mistletoe. The lights were completely off, candles burning in their place. (The candles were overkill. It made Roxy feel like she was walking into an escort den instead of her own bedroom.)

"Eggsy, what the fuck?" Roxy's mouth dropped at the sight of their (well, technically, her) bedroom, aggressively decorated with the poisonous berries.

His smile fell, and Roxy almost felt apologetic for her reaction.

"Sorry, Rox. I, um, thought that you would like it, but I guess I'm going to take it-" Eggsy gasped as Roxy interrupted him with a kiss, her fingers knocking his hat over and threading her fingers through his hair. Eggsy responded in kind, his arms wrapping around her waist, his hands stretching around her and lifting her up. Pressing her against the wall, both of them moaned, finally breaking apart with a gasp.

Roxy swallowed, casting her eyes down. Clearing her throat, she murmured, "Sorry. Um, I'll just-"

"-stay." Eggsy's eyes are looking up at her like she's hung the moon, worshipfully and pouting. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and pressed kisses against her skin.

Roxy leans back into the wall, letting out a small gasp as Eggsy's teeth briefly grazed her pulse point. She felt him smirk against her skin.

"Enjoying the mistletoe, Roxy?"

"Mmm."

Laughing, Eggsy grasps her closer against him, pulling her off of the wall and into his arms. He slammed his lips against hers, causing her to hastily respond, throwing herself closer against him. Juxtaposing himself, Eggsy laid Roxy gently on the bed, curling himself around her, unwilling to part with his lover.

Eggsy stroked Roxy's hair, pressing his face into her cheek. "Merry Christmas, love."

Roxy turned to him, smirking. "Oh no, Eggsy. It's not Christmas. Not yet."

Then she took off his shirt.


	2. Meeting the Family (Eggsy, Part I)

It wasn't as if Eggsy was threatened by the mere prospect of meeting Roxy's family. No. The man that had killed the world's biggest terrorist and collasped entire gangs in the span of twelve hours (okay, with Roxy's help) would never be scared meeting the family.

And yet, he found himself tugging on his tie, staring into the mirror at his own expression, the epitome of nerves. All too suddenly, his collar felt like a noose and his jacket made his body temperature rise fifteen degrees. He let out a shaky sigh and stepped back, falling back onto the bed.

He closed his eyes, picturing the scenarios that could play out: meeting Mr. Morton and discovering that his girlfriend's dad hated him (for even daring to look at his daughter, for even trying to kiss her, and god knows what would happen if he ever discovered the more ahem, sexual things that they had done); meeting Mrs. Morton and realizing that he had no proper etiquette skills; meeting Roxy's siblings and—

"Eggs?" Eggsy turned to face Roxy, who was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, her hands curled around a towel. As anxious as he was, he couldn't help but notice how the red dress hugged her curves and flared out from her waist and swirled around her knees. Her hair had been let down from its usual tight ponytail. Instead, her hair had been braided back into a crown, emphasizing the fullness of her beautiful face. "Are you alright?"

Eggsy converted his features hastily into a smile, although he was sure that his beads of sweat were still visible. "Fine, love. All ready t'ah leave?"

Instead of replying, Roxy dropped the towel and rushed over, leaning down so that her face was level with Eggsy's. She brushed her finger against his hair, pushing it back so that she could press the back of her palm to his wet forehead. "Eggsy, you're sweating and your temperature is definitely over thirty-seven degrees. You're not fine." She hesitated. "We should probably cancel, you're probably sick."

"No!" Eggsy realized his tone too soon. "Uh, I meant, uh, I'm fine, Rox. Let's go meet your family! No, seriously, I'm fine. I-"

Roxy stared at him for what felt like an eternity before standing up and seating herself next to Eggsy. She wrapped her arms around his chest, gently leaning his head against her chest. He accepted the embrace gratefully, gripping her fingers tightly.

She pressed her lips against his hair, breathing in the scent of his body, all pine and masculine. But under the surface, there was a sweetness that Roxy had known was there, a sweetness that she had tasted on her lips many times, a sweetness that she had been enveloped in many times. It was a feeling that had lulled her to sleep and protected her every night.

"Is that what this is about?" She murmured, fingers threading through the honey blonde fibers. "Meeting my family?"

Eggsy pried himself away from her breast to fix his bleary eyes on hers. "Yes," he confessed simply, although her fingers entertwined around his with almost all over her strength, almost bruising them.

Roxy let out a short laugh. "Eggsy, you've taken down arms dealers and bombers with no effort. What is so scary to you about my family?"

"Everything." Eggsy's voice was still quiet. And then, suddenly, he pulled away from her grasp, shooting up to his feet. He combed his fingers through his hair, resulting in what looked very much like a tumbleweed resting on his brow. His voice raised as he waved his arms wildly. "They're your family, Rox! They're—they're— they're the people tha' are the closest t'ah you, the ones th'a help you decide things like what t'ah do, where t'ah go, who t'ah date, and they—" Eggsy froze as soon as he realized what he had said.

Roxy shot up to her feet as well, and although she was a full seven inches shorter than him, the rage and emotions she was emitting made up for the missing height. "Eggsy, shut up!"

He stood still as he watched Roxy's face die down to a flushed pink. He stood silently and frozen, and the tiny bit of fear in his heart that was reserved for only Roxy to recover was amplified. Only Roxy could make him the happiest and strongest man in the world and simultaneously the most fearful and weak man in the world.

He braced himself for the slap or the shouting lecture that was bound to happen. What he did not expect, however was Roxy crushing her mouth against his, her fingers tightly clutching the collar of his suit. Eggsy froze for a split second, and the city lights beneath them seemed to hold their breath as Eggsy's hands found their way towards Roxy's waist, supporting her as she leapt into his arms, legs curling around his hips. Her face hovered above his, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. Eggsy accepted the new position, his face stretching up, craving her touch.

But Roxy held him back, leaning back. Dazedly, Eggsy realized that in their haste, he had pushed Roxy into the wall, the front of her hair mussed up. Still, though, she was iridescent and full of life, her cheeks flushed rose from their snogging.

Roxy took a few deep breaths before she let go of Eggsy's jacket and instead pressed her fingers lightly to his cheeks. Still panting a little (more out of emotions than fatigue), she swallowed and allowed her lips to curve up gracefully. "Eggsy, you don't have anything to worry about," she told him fiercely. "I'm here. I'm here, I'm here, I'm here." She pressed her forehead against his, their noses touching as she whispered to him. "We have each other. That's all you need for support. And I don't give a shit what my family might say. It doesn't matter to me." She took another breath, and then pulled away from Eggsy. Dimly, he realized that she had beads of tears in her eyes. Roxy folded her lips in, blinking back her tears. Then, impulsively, she reached forward, caressing Eggsy's lips with hers.

"And besides," she whispered. "I love you."


	3. Idle Talk

Roxy's never been a fan of idle gossip. She remembers all too well the snobbish girls of Oxford who threw away gossip from person to person like used tissues. They were bitchy things, drivel driven by queen bees who realized that their minions had been going around under their noses doing things that were apparently considered "disloyal." Suzy B. had slept with Tara I.'s ex-boyfriend's half-brother's frat brother, Poppy U. had too much to drink and plunged face first into the sidewalk, etc.

She was understandably not happy when her uncle decided to bring up her love life.

Percival was more of a brother than an uncle. He was younger than the other Kingsmen; at thirty-four, he was still in the prime of his life. He was mild and well-mannered most of the time, although he had been known to occasionally throw a random virus onto Merlin's precious computer system in order to demand a raise.

(That is, until Merlin retaliated and recorded a video threatening to vandalize Percival's precious teacup collection. Percival never went anywhere near Merlin's office again.)

Said love life discussion occurred the night that Arthur had decided that sending three Kingsmen to Rome was necessary in order to apprehend an arms dealer. All three had protested heavily; one in need of rest, one in need of "injuries," and one by saying, "What the fuck, Harry, I jus' got back!"

Arthur wasn't moved, and Roxy had ended up in a smoky 1920s themed club, lounging on a couch sipping a champagne flute while she watched her brother flirt shamelessly with a nearby performer. Percival's Italian was flawless, and he must have been saying something full of rubbish or undeniably smooth, because the girl's silver feathers shook as she laughed. Reaching for Percival's hand, Roxy could only roll her eyes and scoff as the girl scribbled down her number, blew a kiss, and scrambled away. Turning back to his niece, Percival grinned.

"I think she liked me."

"Did she now?" Roxy murmured, raising an eyebrow. "We're supposed to be doing recon, not trying to get into some poor girl's pants."

"I suppose." Percival leaned back thoughtfully. Glancing around the club, Roxy glimpsed an elderly man, belly full with food that could only have been bought through years of money, tugging on the short skirt of another performer.

Roxy nearly jumped out of her seat, but her uncle reached a hand over, blocking her way. "Easy, Lancelot."

"He's definitely grabbing her ass."

"Let it happen. We can't blow your cover."

"It's only one annoying, fat, posh guy."

"I'm only one annoying, slightly chubby, posh guy, what are you trying to say?"

"At least you don't go around trying to perform statutory rape."

"Well, look at them now." Percival raised his whiskey glass at the couple. The performer was now in the old man's lap, giggling. He looked gratified, and Roxy let out an exasperated sigh as she turned back to a smug Percival.

"Money can't buy people everything."

Percival was quiet before he replied. "You know that better than anyone."

Roxy elected to ignore the bait, although she knew that he was looking at her with concern. She scanned the crowd again. "Where's Galahad?" She touched a finger to her ear, rubbing her earpiece. "This is working, right?"

Percival tapped the side of his glasses. "He's still in the tunnels, but he should be here soon." Suddenly, Percival leaned forward with the practiced grace of a tiger leaping towards its prey. "Speaking of our lovely Galahad, I heard that you two have started quite the tumultuous relationship."

Roxy's head snapped up. "Who did you hear it from? I didn't tell anyone? Where the fuck—"

"Well, you didn't tell anyone at work, although I think Arthur and Merlin know already. And I've know pretty much for months." Percival leaned closer to her, as if he was one of the Oxford gossip squad. "But the thing you neglected to tell all of us was that you tried to bring him home to Carla and Richard."

Roxy winced at the memory of Christmas. Her parents had not taken kindly to Eggsy. "I didn't want you to know."

"And I'm hurt. Truly, Lancelot, I'm hurt." Percival beat a fist against his heart for effect. "But I'm utterly shocked that you would abandon all common sense in order to be able to take your boyfriend home for the holidays."

"I briefly considered that they would like him, and that led to everything else."

Percival snorted. "'Everything else' doesn't do what happened justice. Your parents—"

"I don't need to know what happened, Perce, I was there. And I don't consider them my parents anymore."

"Well, that was bound to happen, although I'll confess that I thought you'd break away sooner. I was blessed to be born when Carla was already judgemental and pruney, but most importantly of all, almost out of the house."

Roxy allowed herself a short laugh. Percival continued. "But still, you could tell everyone everything about you and Galahad. No one would care. I mean, we do care, we've been shipping you two for months—"

"What?"

Percy waved a dismissive arm. "Doesn't matter. The only thing that does is—" he broke off, and refocused his eyes on her. He lowered his voice, quietly enough so that it would be hard even for their comms to pick up. "Do you love him?"

Roxy felt something in her chest constrict. She could tell that her breathing had sped up, based off of the flashing light at the corner of her glasses, and her heart rate had elevated as well. Percival had moved an arm in front of her, to catch her if necessary, although he was still looking at her intensely. Why was this so hard to say in front of someone else? The hard part had been telling Eggsy, surely. After that, someone was supposed to be free, they were supposed to know that their partner loved them. But Roxy couldn't choke out the barest syllable to her uncle.

The last time she had told Eggsy that she loved him… how long had that been? One, two months ago? Had it really been that long? What had happened two months ago?

Christmas.

Before Christmas, things had been clear cut. Things had been calm and smooth, and Roxy had let her guard down. Now, her walls were back up, brick built up to the sky.

"I do," she managed to choke out finally. She turned desperately to Percival. "Why is this so hard?"

Percy's eyes were somber as he replied. "Because you're still not sure yet."

 **Soooo… heyyy…. How have you been doing?**

 **It's been a while, I know. Believe me, I've been wracked with guilt for not updating, but I feel a lot better after this chapter.**

 **You guys aren't quite getting the Christmas chapter yet, but hopefully it'll be up in a few weeks… or days… or months…**

 **But if you've stuck with me until now, you guys are amazing! Cookies for everyone! (::) (::)**


	4. A New Mission

***Throws chronological order out of the window.***

 **I'm aware that this story has been on a really really long hiatus, and I apologize for that. That being said, I'm still not ready to come back to this story . . . maybe ever. I've moved on to other fandoms, and I'm still refusing to see Kingsman 2 after all the controversy and mixed reviews. That being said, Kingsman will always occupy a place in my heart, even though this ship might be kind of problematic now.**

 **At the very least, updates will be sporadic. You readers are such lovely people, and I can't believe that you guys have hung on for so long.**

 **(This chapter was something I had pre-written and saved as a draft for a while. I didn't edit it, so please bear with me.)**

There's something awkwardly pleasing about seeing your boyfriend and your uncle/mentor being forced to hang out. It's even more satisfying when you're the one managing the play date.

("It's a _casual dinner,_ Roxy, for God's sake, have some class.")

Five cartons of Chinese takeout and three bottles of beer werre strewn around Percival's coffee table. Other than that, his apartment was immaculate.

"I tell you, Eggsy," started Percival. "Women will ruin you. They'll seduce you and make you believe happiness is real, but then they'll leave you in an instant for a richer man."

Eggsy had already made his way through two out of the three bottles of beer on the table, but Percival had been brought out of surgery less than a day ago. If he had to guess, Percival was probably still high on sedatives and other drugs.

(Roxy had already given up trying to prevent Percival from eating what she called "oily, greasy fast food in disguise.")

"Damn, Percival," Eggsy managed awkwardly. "Who 'urt you?"

Roxy stuck her head out of the kitchen. "Is this about Lena again?"

Percival shook a finger at Roxy. "Yes," he declared.

"It's been twenty years. You have to get over her, James."

"She was my love!" Percival protested. "And she betrayed me!"

Roxy rolled her eyes. Percival leaned closer to Eggsy. "She was beautiful," he confided, as if Roxy didn't already know. "Smart and snarky. Could drink me under the table, too. Once won eight thousand pounds from the Prince of Sweden in a game of Russian Roulette."

"She sounds... Interesting."

"She was," Percival sighed. "Stole my heart away. Up until she decided to get married to an idiotic bloke from Wales."

"We never found out what happened to her after that, did we?" Roxy mused.

"I don't care," slurred Percy, the alcohol starting to adle his brain. "She gone now, and we were supposed to be together."

Roxy curled herself into the sofa adjacent to Eggsy's, and he stole a look at her. She shrugged at him and reached for an unopened bottle of beer, twisting the cap off. Percival dug his chopsticks into the carton of lo mein and stuffed himself.

"I didn't say that to deter you from pursuing a girl—" he paused. "Or bloke. Or alien. Or tree. Whatever you're into. But love can be the best thing in the universe and the worst thing in the universe. It all depends on fate."

~*~  
Mornings at Kingsman HQ were always hectic.

The day started promptly at 6:30 sharp, with Arthur enjoying his eggs and sausage with the day's edition of The Times (although everyone knew he liked to sneak a copy of The Sun in there as well). He would wait and read patiently. He knew that his morning would be soon disrupted.

He wasn't disappointed.

"I'm just saying, that bloody bugger deserved more than what he got!"

"He's the antagonist, Percival."

"So? He's was still the best character in that movie."

"Percival, he tried to kill everyone."

"He only killed like, five people, max. In the movie. That other genocidal maniac killed everyone."

"I gotta agree with 'im on this, Rox."

"What?!"

Arthur looked up just as the three agents came into view. Percival looked extremely smug, while Roxy looked betrayed and Eggsy looked sheepish."

"Good morning, Lancelot, Percival, Galahad. I trust your recovery went well?" Harry said, nodding to Percival.

"It went _very_ well, thank you, Arthur." Piped Percival.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Well, then, take a seat. Bors and Merlin should be joining us soon."

"Thas' it, then? The rest o' them are all on missions?"

"Some of them are in the medical wing, Galahad. It's been quiet out in the world lately."

"Do you think it has something to do with that crime ring we found two weeks ago?" Roxy asked, sitting down and reaching for a piece of toast.

"That son of bitch Renaldi," muttered Eggsy scathingly.

"Language, Galahad," reprimanded Harry mildly. "Yes, I believe so. You and Lancelot managed to destroy nearly half of their drug empire. No doubt they're still suffering profit loss."

"They'll try to build themselves up again," Percival muttered. "Sons of bitches like them won't stay down for long."

"So all we gotta do is completely destroy 'em," Eggsy rebutted.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple, Galahad." Harry sighed, turning to the monitor on the wall. A profile was pulled up, along with multiple pictures of what looked like morgue reports.

The profile depicted a man glaring at the four kingsmen.

RICHARD RENALDI

AGE: 34

HEIGHT: 5'8"

EYE COLOR: BLUE

HAIR COLOR: BROWN

WEIGHT: 160 LB

OCCUPATION: ARMS DEALER, DRUG DEALER

FAMILY: EMELIA ISADORE (MOTHER, DECEASED), HAROLD RENALDI (FATHER, DECEASED), RACHEL RENALDI (SISTER)

Percival frowned. "Why is it so short?"

Harry sighed. "It is very difficult to find information on. . . Mister Renaldi. As you all know, he is quite adept as escaping the authorities; He has built up quite the follower base for himself, and there are hundreds of people who would lay down their lives to protect him."

Roxy raised an eyebrow. "You sound impressed."

"I'm merely admitting that he has established quite an empire out of nothing," Harry said defensively. "He started out as an orphan who had to provide for his sister."

"Yeah, well, that was twenty-five years ago," Percival cut in dismissively. "I say that anything over ten years doesn't count."

"I agree with Percy."

"Eggsy, I love you, but don't ever call me Percy."

"Understood, Percy."

Roxy rolled her eyes at the two kingsmen who were currently arguing back and forth like children. "Could we get back on track here?"

Eggsy gave her a cheeky grin. "All righ' luv."

"Don't call me luv." Roxy turned away from him only to be met with Percy aggressively wiggling his eyebrows at her. She glared.

 _You look ridiculous_

He grinned and mouthed at her. _You're besotted._

Roxy was about to mouth something not-so-nice back, but Harry cleared his throat. "All right, everyone, shall we continue?"

Roxy turned her attention back to Harry, and he began talking again. "Renaldi has been seen transporting large crates, along with back and forth from his warehouses to the docks. As of right now, we do not know exactly what is in them, but according to our agents in Italy, Renaldi may be selling to Eastern European or Middle Eastern buyers."

"You think he's selling weapons?" Percival leaned forward.

"Correct. Weapons, or something even worse."

"Whas' even wors' then weapons?" Eggsy frowned.

"Information," Roxy guessed. "A man like Renaldi would never commit himself so loosely to a cause he believes in. Weapons aren't enough for him to feel like he's making a difference."

"You're right, Lancelot." Harry cued up a video on the wall.

It was a time lapse of one of Renaldi's warehouses in Sicily. Men ran back and forth, outside to inside, left to right. Crates were pushed this way and that, and Roxy had to squint to make sense of the situation. The crates were loaded into the truck, and were about to be transported elsewhere, but then two men ran out with another crate. They moved too quickly; one slip on slick ground and the crate came crashing down onto the road, revealing that Renaldi was shipping-

"Is that _cabbage?"_ Percival leaned forward in astonishment. "Those buggers were transporting _cabbage?"_

Before Harry could respond, the doors to the room opened to reveal Merlin and Bors. Bors was grinning like a fool, while Merlin was glaring straight forward. Bors was a forty-something man who still had some of his boyish features carved into his face, making him appear years younger than he actually was. Shorter than both Eggsy and Percival (and _definitely_ shorter than Harry and Merlin), he radiated naive charm. When it came down to it, however, Roxy had seen him ruthlessly cutting down his enemies.

"Ah, Merlin, Bors, nice of you to join us. Take a seat, we were just discussing Renaldi's trading."

Bors nodded. "Mornin' Arthur, Galahad, Lancelot, Percival." The monitor caught his eye. "Ah, you're already onto the cabbage?"

"Yes, and for god's sake, can someone explain to me what the seventh most formidable arms dealer on the planet is doing with one of the worst vegetables in the world?" Percival waved his arms wildly.

"It's a cover for his support of a certain country's plan to usurp another country's government," Harry explained. "Which countries are involved in this plot we still don't know, but we're working on it. Isn't that right, Merlin?"

"Yes, Arthur. We've narrowed it down to a few probable choices-Russia and America, China and Taiwan-"

"-no, you're mistaking my point. What in the actual fuck is a _gangster_ doing with _vegetables_? Has he inserted poison into them to kill the people that consume them? Is he planning to make them living creatures like on the episode of that inferior American cartoon whose name I can't remember? What has he done?"

"Jesus Christ, Percy, are you seriously talking about the Powerpuff Girls right now?"

"Eggsy, _what did I say_?"

"No Percy. Got it."

" _Gentlemen_ ," said Harry sternly. "Stay on task, please. Now, Renaldi may be staying off the grid for the time being, but his sister is still very much out in the open. She's never given us any indication that she knows of or is involved in her brother's crime empire, but it would still be a good idea to keep an eye on her. Bors, you'll be working with Lancelot on this one. You two will investigate Ms. Renaldi's apartment in Rome. Percival, Galahad, I want you two investigating Ms. Renaldi's other residences in New York, Los Angeles, and Paris."

"Har-Arthur, don't you think that splitting us up is a little risky? I mean, we're a team, Lancelot and I, and-"

 _Oh, Eggsy, you're too sweet._

"It's time you learn to work separately from each other." He turned to Roxy. "Lancelot, any comments or concerns?"

She knew better than to argue, despite the puppy-dog eyes that Eggsy was giving her. "No, sir."


End file.
